


Don't Keep Me Waiting

by theangrymom



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, intersex omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 15:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangrymom/pseuds/theangrymom
Summary: You and Jason aren’t in a relationship, technically, but your arrangement is mutually beneficial: Jason occasionally needs someone to submit to, and sometimes you need to put someone on their knees.





	Don't Keep Me Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt from anon on tumblr: "can you write an abo fic with Jason and the reader?" 
> 
> There also somehow ended up being something like a footjob in here?? Don't know how that happened, definitely wasn't in the original plan. Hope you enjoy! <3 <3

After the third heavy sigh, you finally glance up from the book in your lap. Jason is pointedly staring at the TV, hands folded in his lap, but his feigned nonchalance is undermined by how rigidly he’s holding himself-- spine straight, shoulders squared, and jaw clenched so tightly the tendons in his neck stand out in stark relief.

 

As you look at him-- taking in the chiseled definition of his cheekbones, the barely exposed sliver of skin between his shirt and sweats-- you wonder if you should just break the awkward tension like you usually would. But you usually aren’t stuck at home, put out of commission by a stray bullet through the shoulder. You know by the lack of visible bruises and scrapes on Jason that the streets of Gotham have been as peaceful as they ever get the last few nights. You also know from the way Jason reeks of frustration and arousal that he’s looking for a physical outlet from having missed his daily dose of violence. Since it’s doubtful that Jason has gone and found himself another alpha in the couple of weeks you’ve been hurt, and nothing has gone down between the two of you since you initially got hurt, the tension surrounding Jason is not only from pent up aggression, but also from sexual frustration.

 

You and Jason aren’t in a relationship, technically, but your arrangement is mutually beneficial: Jason occasionally needs someone to submit to, and sometimes you need to put someone on their knees. But being fuck buddies with Jason Todd comes with a few particular quirks. Namely that Jason needs to be put in his place-- reminded of who’s in charge-- before he can allow himself to submit. For the most part, wrestling for a bit and pinning Jason to the bed (or the floor, or the wall, or the kitchen table) is the quickest way to assuage Jason’s instincts with proof of your dominance. But seeming as you’re incapable of providing a physical reminder at the moment, you’ve had to resort to an alternate solution: tricking Jason (and his picky, needy omega instincts) into submitting. It shouldn’t be too hard, since you plan on making him actually ask for what he wants, which he hates more than almost anything and never fails to bring him to the edge of humiliation. Every alpha worth their knot knows that humiliation is practically a fast track to submission, especially for an omega like Jason who desperately wants to please and be taken care of but hates putting himself in vulnerable positions.

 

After a while of you staring and Jason pretending like he doesn’t know you’re staring, a muscle in his jaw slides and feathers as he grinds his back teeth together. The metallic tang of frustration in his scent spikes. It seems to take a force of will for him to drag his eyes from the TV screen to lock gazes with you, poorly concealed desperation written in every line of his face. Another few seconds of quiet tick by.

 

Finally, once Jason starts shifting awkwardly on the couch, you decide to take pity on him. Tilting your head a few careless degrees to the left, you ask, “Did you want something?”

 

Jason blinks once before his brows draw together in a drastic scowl and his eyes slide away to stare over your shoulder. “You know what I want.”

 

“Do I?” You valiantly try to keep a smirk off your face and out of your voice. “I think you need to tell me.”

 

Jason looks back to you with a bewildered expression, replaced in the next moment by something like annoyance. It was probably too much to hope for, that Jason wouldn’t notice what you were up to. Not that him knowing changes your plan at all. The TV drones softly in the background before Jason clicks it off with a huff and lets the remote clatter onto the end table. His eyes are narrowed in determination as he crawls, graceful as ever, across the length of the couch to pluck the book out of your lap and drop it on the floor. He’s careful around your wound as he settles, straddling your lap, and cups your face with calloused, gentle hands.

 

“I could just show you,” Jason says, voice rough and low; intimate.

 

When he leans in to kiss you, you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth and angle his head in a way that lets you wrap a hand around the back of his neck and pull him in closer. Jason surrenders to the kiss beautifully, just like he always does, letting you control the pace and leaning into your hands. The slide of his plush lips over yours is almost too good, makes you want to crush your lips together roughly, bite at his mouth, suck on his tongue until you’re both panting for it. Instead, you pull away the first time Jason’s hips rock down into yours. Jason whines, confused, and tries to chase your mouth. You use your grip on his nape to hold him away and move your free hand down to brace against his hip, keeping him still there, too.

 

Leaning your head against the back of the couch, looking directly into Jason’s wild blue-green eyes, you say, “Tell me what you need,” in the most commanding voice you can manage when you’re still a little breathless from the kiss. Already your shoulder is stinging, aching, from trying to manipulate Jason’s muscular bulk. You hope you don’t pop any stitches-- Jason would never let you forget a sex injury. Jason whines again, trying to duck down and hide his face against your throat, the first tinges of embarrassment filtering into his scent. You hold him steady and nip at his ear, reveling in the way he shivers, and demand, “Tell me.”

 

“You,” Jason chokes out. “ _You_. Please.” Then he surges forward against your loosened grip and buries his nose behind your ear, snuffling against the scent-rich skin there, hands fisted in the thin material of your t-shirt.

 

Either you’ve been underestimating how easy Jason is, or he really just needs it that bad tonight. In any case, you immediately wish you were healed enough to fuck him, to give him what he really wants. Despite the arousal lighting up inside you, though, you can’t. So you have to settle for the next best thing.

 

“Go get your toy out of my room. And the lube.” Jason licks over your scent gland, his own scent taking on a bright, excited flare before he reluctantly peels himself away and lopes down the hallway.

 

You watch him, the sway of his hips, the tempting, thick curve of his ass, until he’s out of sight, and then glance sullenly down at your crotch. Keeping your sweats on is a must, because you know that if you take them off Jason will convince you-- one way or another-- to try something you’re not healthy enough for. You resolutely move your hands away from the waistband and sit up a little straighter.

 

When Jason comes back into the living room, he’s lost his shirt and has his favorite purple dildo clutched in one hand and a bottle of the good lube in the other. He makes to pass both items to you, but you shake your head and point to the floor in front of the couch.

 

“Show me how bad you need this.” Your voice rumbles in a way that promises a growl if you don’t get control of yourself.

 

Jason’s cheeks turn the softest, most beautiful shade of pink as he stares down at his feet, dildo held awkwardly away from his body. The stubborn frustration in his scent has been almost entirely overridden by arousal, but it’s obvious he’s struggling with himself, with letting go. This is the tipping point.

 

You reach out and pull him in by the hips. He steps close without resistance, and you press a kiss just below his belly button, taking in a deep breathe of his heady scent.

 

“Jaybird,” you say quietly. “Show me.”

 

The sea green ring of Jason’s eyes visible around his blown pupils seems to glow, his lips red and swollen from the way he keeps chewing on them. After another few seconds of regarding each other, where you hold as still as possible and try to exude confidence, Jason purposefully drops his eyes to the floor. You kiss him again-- on each hip bone this time-- and gently push him away.

 

With quick, jerky movements Jason wrestles himself out of his sweatpants, tossing them away before lowering himself to his knees between your spread legs. There’s barely a trace of the stubborn frustration from earlier in his scent, but he’s still tense, muscles straining in his shoulders and forearms, as he fumbles with the lid of the lube. You wait until he’s managed to squirt a liberal amount into his hand before threading your fingers through his hair. When you push the curling fringe of his bangs away from his forehead, Jason looks so much younger than he usually does; a vulnerability in the set of his mouth, the roundness of his eyes, that’s made even more apparent by the shy look he sends you from under his long, dark lashes. A rumble of approval bubbles up from your chest, and Jason shivers daintily.

 

A sharp tug to his hair and a pointed look toward the dildo has Jason shuddering back into movement, wrapping the circle of his fist around the toy. When the plastic is shiny with lube, and Jason peeks back up to you for direction, you sit forward to press firmly against his chest. You push until, completely trusting, Jason falls onto his back, dildo still in hand.

 

As you settle back into the couch cushions, you use a foot to kick Jason’s legs apart and nudge at the inside of one knee until he’s sprawled out obscenely, everything on lewd display. The sight of Jason’s slit-- pink, already glistening, and framed by thick black curls-- and his little cock, not two inches long even when fully hard, makes your mouth water and knocks the breath out of your lungs. You can tell by the way Jason’s nostrils flare and how the barely-there blush of being watched intensifies that your scent has translated every unspoken, lustful desire perfectly. He watches you with hooded eyes as you spread your own legs further apart, knocking ankles with Jason, and grind the heel of your hand into your crotch to try and take the biting edge out of your arousal.

 

“Come on, baby,” you say, and the alpha timbre of your voice has Jason jerking his hips up helplessly. You smirk and leer down at him, licking your lips in the predatory way you know he likes. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

 

Jason whines, and before you’ve even finished talking, he’s rushing to bring the head of the dildo to his now-dripping cunt. He doesn’t hesitate to start working it inside, already squirming and mewling. It’s obvious that this won’t last very long.

 

“Easy,” you murmur. “There’s no rush, Jay. Make it feel good.”

 

Jason lets out a shuddering exhale and says, breathy, “ _Does_ feel good.” You can tell by the tears already spiking his eyelashes that he’s not lying.

 

You breathe out a hoarse laugh. “Make it feel better, then.”

 

He purses his lips, but slows down, no longer forcing the toy inside as fast as he can, but taking the time to rock it in and out each time he manages a few more inches. It pays off; his moans get even louder and desperate. When the dildo is nearly buried to the flared base, Jason’s freehand flies to his pebbled nipples, alternatingly flicking and squeezing them in a way that causes a fresh wave of his natural slick to slide out and further ease the way for the toy. You smell the overly-sweet scent of it before you see it ooze out around the toy and between Jason’s fingers, but the whole scene draws a growl from deep in your throat; a damp spot starts forming in the front of your sweatpants. The sound drives Jason wild, his hips jerking down onto the dildo sporadically a few times before he seems to get control of himself again.

 

“Wanna,” Jason groans out, before having to pause and gasp in a deep breath as he works the dildo into his cunt faster. “Wanna come. Please, alpha, wanna come,” he practically sobs out.

 

It’s such an omega thing to do, asking to come, and Jason begs so sweetly that you can’t stop the snarling growl that rips out of your throat. Jason _howls_ , his hands a blur as he works himself over.

 

“Yeah, baby, okay,” you say, voice cracking as you try to bring your baser instincts-- that are screaming for you to throw caution to the wind and get on the floor to mount your omega-- to heel. Jason’s moans reach a fever pitch. The wet squelching noises the toy makes as it moves impossibly faster in and out of Jason is deafening.

 

A few seconds pass, and you watch the play of taut muscles under the scarred, beautifully tanned skin of Jason’s chest and stomach rapturously, until Jason exhales forcefully, shouts despairingly, and slams his head back against the floor.

 

“ _Can’t_ ,” he says brokenly. “Need-need you to--” and when he breaks off, pinching viciously at an already swollen and tortured looking nipple, you get it.

 

You briefly consider getting down to use your hand, but you know yourself well enough to know that if you move off the couch you’ll end up mounting Jason, bullet wound or no. So, you shift your weight to your uninjured side and press the ball of your bare foot into Jason’s purpling cockhead.

 

His shoulders curl up off the floor as he sobs, two short spurts of mostly clear semen hitting the bottom of your foot as he comes instantly. You can feel the way his stomach convulses, can see the way the base of the toy bobs up and down as Jason’s pussy clenches down around it over and over.

 

You leave your foot resting lightly against Jason’s rapidly softening cock. His skin glistens under a sheen of sweat, chest still heaving as he catches his breath. You let him lie there as long as you can, before the need to come becomes nearly painful. Pressing firmly down with your foot against oversensitive flesh has Jason’s eyes flying open and immediately locking gazes with you.

 

“Don’t keep me waiting.” You mean it to sound teasing, but the growl of command in your voice is unmistakable.

 

Jason is still come drunk, droopy and loose, but he lurches onto his knees without looking away from you, eyes going dark as he smiles up at you.

 

“Yes, alpha.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment and kudos!


End file.
